The Bet
by EnderGirl
Summary: Spy and Sniper always seem to be at odds over something, but what happens when they try to outdo each other in the area of...willpower? May contain sleepiness, wrench-related cranial injuries, and one very pissed off Scout. ONE-SHOT!


I**...I did a thing. I've been really motivated for one-shots lately, so I hope you guys enjoy this X3. I STILL have something cooking in the fanfiction oven, however...mmm...smells multi-chaptered with a hint of tragedy and loss. I'll never tell!**

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Sniper poured himself a second cup of coffee, enjoying the peaceful Sunday morning.

"Hey, you took my seat fatso! I was sittin' on the couch first and you just-"

"Little man should not have left seat unattended for so long,"

There was an unmistakable smashing of dinnerware and a sharp cry of pain.

"Can ve not haff one morning vizout stitches?"

Sniper smiled.

Just a peaceful Sunday morning.

He had always been an early riser, and every morning he would sit out in front of his van in a rickety old lawn chair and watch the sun come up. Sniper was a creature of habit; watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee, coming inside to brew a fresh pot of coffee, then usually watching whatever reruns were on the old black and white TV in the common room. Sniper loved the weekends, because he could just sit with his team and do whatever.

Sniper felt hot breath on the back of his neck and his skin prickled with a familiar feeling. He didn't even have to turn around to know who it was; the overwhelming smell of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke identified the person immediately.

"Wot do you want, spook?" Sniper growled, knocking back the last of his coffee and rinsing his mug out in the sink. Spy materialized out of seemingly nowhere with a puff of smoke and he had a look of mock offense on his face.

"Such hostility! Must be all the caffeine in your system," Spy smirked, taking a drag of the cigarette that currently hung out of the corner of his mouth. Sniper snorted in disbelief.

"Seriously? Must be all the nicotine in _your_ system that serves as the stick up yer butt," Sniper felt irritation flaring in his chest. Why did Spy have to bother him on Sunday morning?

"Oh please, bushman. I could stop anytime I wanted," challenge glinted in Spy's muddy blue eyes. "Unlike you, I have a shred of willpower in my veins," Sniper slammed his mug down on the counter and stalked up to the slightly shorter man, poking a finger in his chest.

"Willpower? _Willpower?_ Ya wanna talk about willpower, mate? Oi'm a Sniper! I sit perfectly still fer hours on end, hardly blinkin', hardly breathin', and Oi nevah miss," he said darkly, with his finger still jabbed into Spy.

"Of course you do," Spy said with fake understanding. "So you maybe take out one or two BLUs with your toy gun and the rest of your time is spent peeing in jars and having knives driven into your back," Spy removed Sniper's finger from his chest and calmly walked over to the pot of coffee and dropped the butt of his cigarette into it.

"That's it," Sniper growled, rage twisted on his face.

"What are you going to do, run away a hundred meters and shoot me?" Spy patted around in his suit for his disguise kit which housed all of his cigarettes.

"No, I'm gonna do somfin' bettah than that," Sniper dug around in his back pocket until he pulled out a very old, very worn black wallet. He opened it up and slammed a crisp fifty dollar bill onto the kitchen counter. Spy narrowed his eyes.

"What are you playing at, bushman?" Spy eyed the money.

"Oi'm makin' a bet! Oi bet you can't go a week wifout a cigarette," Sniper said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. Spy sneered and pulled out his own, expensive looking wallet and placed a fifty dollar bill on top of Sniper's.

"And I bet you can't go a week without drinking a drop of that black sludge you call coffee," Sniper nodded curtly and held out his hand; Spy reluctantly shook it. Sniper made it an effort to crush Spy's feminine finger in his own large, calloused hand as he grinned dangerously at him. They stood glaring at each other for a considerable amount of time before Sniper's eyes darted to the pot of coffee which still had Spy's cigarette floating on top.

"Of course, we should start tomorrow, roight? Make it a proper week?" Sniper's lips were suddenly very dry and he thought he detected a flash of relief pass by Spy's face.

"Yes, yes, I think that would be wise," Spy's hand darted into his pocket and he flipped open his lighter like a madman while Sniper dumped out the pot of ruined coffee and started a fresh brew.

It was going to be a _very_ long week.

.

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Sniper was the first in the kitchen as usual, whistling quietly to himself as he dumped a generous helping of coffee grounds into the filter. Today was going to be a good day. He was well-rested and feeling great, itching to get on the battlefield. He filled the coffee pot with water and dumped it into the reservoir, finger hovering inches over the start button.

Then he remembered.

He wasn't supposed to _have_ any coffee. Sniper's morning was instantly ruined, his routine thrown off track. How did he know that Spy hadn't puffed through a pack and a half already this morning? After all, he wasn't known for keeping his word. Sniper was tempted, very tempted to begin brewing the pot of coffee but he sat on his hands and sulked, waiting for everyone else to wake up. Surprisingly enough, it was Spy who entered the kitchen next. They made brief eye contact, glaring daggers into one another.

"Good morning, Lawrence," Spy's voice was scratchy and ragged, lacking the usual smoothness to it.

"Mornin'," Sniper grumbled, staring stubbornly out the window.

The rest of the team slowly filtered in by their usual fashion. Medic was next, groomed precisely with his uniform already on and pressed sickeningly straight. He was followed closely by Heavy, then Soldier who was dragging a hungover Demoman, then Engie, Pyro, and finally Scout, the boy rubbing his eyes and yawning. Scout was immediately aware of the tension between the bedraggled Spy and the jittery Sniper and he even went as far as taking a step in the other direction.

"Hey, everythin' okay here?" he said, passing a quizzical glance between the two men.

"_Fine_!" they yelled at him in unison and Scout flung his hands in the air in a gesture of innocence and annoyance.

"Geez, allright, allright! See if I care next time," he mumbled to himself as he rooted through the fridge looking for something edible for breakfast.

A very long week indeed.

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Sniper rolled his shoulders, wincing at the cracking joints. He remained in his usual position for a moment longer before his lower back started spasming and he sat up completely straight , frustrated. He felt _horrible. _Every so often he would reach out for a coffee mug that wasn't there, his fingers brushing the wooden crate he was sitting on. Sniper laid his rifle down gently and stood up to stretch. He even went as far as dropping onto his hands and doing push-ups that Soldier would have been proud of. He needed to get his blood flowing or he was going to fall asleep. He sat back down again and rubbed his tired eyes, peering through his scope to blow the head off of anything that moved. He considered packing up closer to the firefight but he reasoned that in his condition he would have been caught off guard by some BLU idiot.

The tiniest, most miniscule noise pricked in his left ear and he distinguished it immediately. It was the sound of a lighter flicking open. Sniper felt a grin stretch across his face.

_Bloody BLU spook. Wot was he thinkin' lightin' one so close to me?_

Sniper slowly and carefully shifted his focus to where he heard the noise, but what he saw through his scope made his jaw drop. It was Spy, _their_ Spy, frantically trying to light a cigarette just around the resupply station. Sniper saw the end begin to smolder.

Suddenly wide awake and fueled by rage, Sniper shoved his face as close to his scope as he could and fired.

With the way Spy shrieked, you would have guessed Sniper blew his arm off of or something; but he had simply shot Spy's cigarette right out of his stupid mouth.

"Oi! That money's about ta be moine, ya bloody bogan!" Sniper shouted from his nest, not caring that he had just blown his cover. Spy replied with an upturned middle finger that was very un-Spy like and cloaked, disappearing from sight.

.

.

_Of all the uncouth, filthy, low-class-_

Spy held his breath and pressed his back flat against a wall as the BLU Heavy lumbered by with the BLU Medic following closely behind. His ears were still ringing from where Sniper had nearly killed him, shooting his cigarette clean out of his mouth. Deep down, he supposed he was impressed. The bushman really _didn't_ miss. Spy felt awful; twitchier than Scout after he drank one too many cans of Bonk!. Spy looked both directions before he crept up behind the BLU Engineer who was whacking at his machines like an idiot. Spy gripped his butterfly knife tighter until he was right behind the short man and he reared back, pinpointing the exact spot right in between the second and third vertebrae where he would stick his knife-

Spy struck with a grunt, but quickly realized something was wrong. Instead of the knife cleanly gouging itself into the BLU Engineer's back, it went in about half-way and Spy suddenly lost his strength, drawing back in horror, his hands shaking. His cloak failed and the burly Texan cried out in agony and whirled around, his face twisted in rage.

A heavy wrench connected with Spy's skull and his world exploded with a flash of white-hot pain.

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.

RED lost horribly, and everyone was in a foul mood because of it. Sniper had fallen asleep at his nest and completely missed the horde of BLUs bounding his way, and _really _missed the BLU Pyro who lit him up like a candle. Everyone was pretty much avoiding each other, and Sniper was taking a walk around the base, trying to clear his head. His thoughts were muddied with sleepiness and he hoped the night air would do him some good.

He rounded the corner a bit too quickly and crashed straight into a muscular body. Sniper fell flat on his butt, bouncing slightly, the impact with the hard desert earth jarring his bones. He groaned, head spinning, and looked up to see what- or who- he had hit. A long, bespectacled face edged with concern met him. Medic held out his hand to Sniper and hauled him to his feet.

"Oh, geez doc, Oi'm right sorry, Oi am!" Sniper fretted, seeing the huge red dirt stain that streaked Medic's lab coat. He didn't feel like facing the doctor's wrath this late at night.

"Quite allright, Herr Sniper," Medic offered him a smile, and much to Sniper's surprise, made no mention of his stained clothes. A brief, but intensely awkward moment passed between them until Sniper cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his vest pockets.

"So…wot are you doin' out here so late at night?" Sniper noticed how cheerful the doctor seemed. He could be eccentric at times, that's for sure, but hardly ever…cheerful.

"Oh, I'm just enjoying ze night air…thought I'd have myself a smoke vhile I'm out here," Medic pulled a lone cigarette out of his sleeve and stuck it in the corner of his mouth, still smiling at Sniper.

Sniper paused.

The RED team's beloved OCD doctor hadn't pitched a hissy fit when he found his clothes streaked with red dirt, he was being…nice…and now he was smoking? This is Medic we're talking about; giving lectures twenty-three hours of the day about how bad alcohol and cigarettes were for a functioning body.

_And now he was smoking?_

Sniper returned the smile, drew back, and landed a punch square on the doctor's jaw.

The force of the blow was enough to send 'Medic' sprawling on the sandy earth, cursing in a language that certainly wasn't German. His crisp, tangy accent was replaced with a smooth, seductive one.

"I hate you, Lawrence," Spy's disguise faded and the doctor was replaced by a very angry Frenchman with a gloved hand pressed against his face.

"Really, spook? You must be sufferin' withdrawal somefin' fierce. Oi mean, _Medic_? Of all the people you could have chosen, you become Medic?" Sniper laughed in spite of himself, making no move to help Spy off of the ground. Spy scrambled to his feet unceremoniously and grinned at Sniper, the top row of his teeth stained with blood. With a swirl of smoke he cloaked, leaving Sniper alone. That was, until, Sniper was shoved from behind and his face met the ground. He spat out a mouthful of grit, anger flaring in his stomach. "You bloody piker, bloody…bloody cheap move that was! Why don't ya come out an' foight me loike a man!" Sniper struggled to his impressive 6'2" and balled his fists up. He swung clumsily at nothing, his sleepy muscles refusing to act in according to the commands his brain was giving.

Ugly, snorting laughter sounded in his right ear and a sharp jab to his side drove all of the air out of his lungs and he fell to the ground again, taking longer to get up this time. Sniper was sweating with effort, trying to listen to pinpoint where Spy was. He felt the air move behind him and he swung again, yelling in frustration, his fist connecting with nothing. He panted, backing up into a corner so he had less sides Spy could attack him from. Spy materialized in front of him and Sniper tried to charge him, but Spy nimbly jumped out of the way, dodging him easily. Sniper lost his footing and fell once more to the earth in a tangle of gangly limbs.

"A bit sluggish, aren't we, jar-man?" Spy sneered and gave Sniper a solid kick in the ribs, brushing dirt off his suit, frowning as he looked down at it. "You got blood on my suit."

.

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Sniper woke stiff and sore from his tussle with Spy yesterday. He rolled over in his bed, refusing to get up. A horrible pounding in his head sent waves of nausea through his wiry frame; he needed caffeine. It took all of Sniper's strength to sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed where he sat with his head in his hands, feeling sorry for himself. Why should he have to suffer? Spy was probably propped up in his room, sucking smoke into his lungs while Sniper lazed about, barely having the strength to stand. Sniper pushed himself upward and stumbled to the tiny kitchenette that adorned his camper. He flung open cabinets until he found was he was looking for: a container of coffee grounds. Blinded by a caffeine headache and desperation, Sniper tore the lid off and dug his fingers into the container and shoved a wad into his mouth like it was tobacco.

He nearly gagged it was so vile-_but it was so good._

He didn't get very far into his disgusting endeavor before something solid shoved him so hard he was forced over the sink and spit out the wad of coffee grounds.

"Cheater!" a voice hissed in his ear as Spy appeared in front of him.

"You buggerin' pooftah! How long have you been in my van? Wot, ya get yer kicks from watching me sleep, is that it?" Sniper coughed a disgusting mixture of spit and coffee into the sink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Are ya trying ta choke me, too?" Sniper turned to size Spy up, but stopped when he saw the state the Frenchman was in.

Spy was fairly thin to begin with, but he looked like he'd lost twenty pounds in a matter of a day. His suit hung loose on him and his balaclava was sagging off of his gaunt face. He looked thirty years older; complete with hollow cheeks and dark rings under his eyes. Spy looked as though he was about to open his mouth to say something, but instead began hacking violently, grabbing the counter for support as flecks of spittle accompanied with blood flew out of his mouth. Spy looked like death.

"Geez Frenchie, oi didn't mean it," Sniper started to help the other man sit down but Spy knocked his hand away with a murderous glare.

"I'm winning zis idiotic bet," he wheezed, glowering at Sniper. Sniper took a seat on his bed, avoiding eye contact with Spy as he drew another ragged breath. "I never thought I would participate in such a silly game with you, bushman, but it is officially _on. _Do not take my admittedly disheveled appearance as a sign of weakness, no, but take it as rather…" Spy trailed off when he realized Sniper's head had drooped, only his hands holding him up. "Lawrence?" Spy said cautiously.

A loud snore ripped through the camper van.

_The idiot had fallen asleep!_

Horribly offended that Sniper had fallen asleep in the middle of his speech on how much better he was than him, Spy wound up and slapped Sniper right across the face. Sniper's head jerked to the side and he sat up rigidly, eyes darting around wildly.

"Oi'm up, oi'm up!" he protested, nodding earnestly at Spy as if he'd heard everything he said.

"Why do I waste my time?" Spy stumbled backward and leaned against the camper door as if he didn't have enough strength to push it open. He finally managed to and nearly slid down the rickety stairs. Sniper followed him, having to squint his eyes against the morning sun. Even with his Aviators on it was incredibly bright and he even felt his eyes water in protest. They found their way into the mess hall where everyone was yelling. The sound sliced through Sniper's skull and he felt his headache come again, pounding incessantly.

"Pyro was gonna cook, he _told you dat_!" Scout seemed to be levitating off the ground, but Engie was holding him back, one arm clamped around his bony waist, tucking him under his arm like an American football.

"W'll how m'I supposed t'be able tae understand the bloody…" Demo paused to let out a loud belch. "Th'bloody firebug?" With the way he was slurring his words more than usual, everyone knew he was dead drunk at nine in the morning.

"He was gonna cook but you just wasted all the eggs!" Scout struggled harder against Engie, trying to twist out of his grasp but Engie just held onto him calmly as he tried to reason this situation out. Sniper groaned inwardly, considering turning right around and go back to bed.

"Y'all calm down, please. We have other things to eat for breakfast. Don't make me involve Heavy in this little scuffle," Engie said with a hint of warning in his voice. Scout stopped struggling, and became content with glaring at Demo who laughed and flipped him off. Scout yelled in fury and finally wriggled out of Engie's grasp, tackling the Scotsman to the ground in a flurry of bony limbs. Demo yelped in surprise and the bottle of liquor fell from his grasp and shattered on the ground, soaking both men as they tussled. Although Demo probably outweighed Scout by sixty pounds, Scout moved so quickly he soon had the burly man face down on the ground with a knee between his shoulders, holding his arms behind his back. Demo's drunken state probably didn't help his fighting skills either.

"ENOUGH!" The team winced as everyone's favorite American strutted into the kitchen and broke up the fight. "If you two are going to fight, at LEAST do it like real patriots!" Instead of separating the men and sending them on their way, Soldier picked Scout up by the back of his neck and flung him across the room like he was a ragdoll. Scout's back collided with the wall and he let out a yelp of pain and crumpled to the ground motionlessly.

"What in the name of Sam Hill is wrong with you, Solly?" Engie snarled, his calm demeanor lost. He flipped Soldier's helmet up until he was staring into the man's dark blue eyes. Solly cringed slightly from the wrath of the short mechanic. It wasn't often he was angry, and when he was it was _scary_, for lack of a better term.

Engie opened his mouth to say more but a throat-shredding cough from Spy ripped through the air and everyone turned to look at the pair that had entered. Spy was doubled over with his hands around his stomach, coughing his lungs up, while Sniper was leaning against the couch for support, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Wha' happen'd tae yoo two?" Demo groaned. He had shifted from his submissive position on the floor and was mourning the shattered alcohol bottle. Before either of them could answer, Medic came storming into the kitchen, obviously disturbed by the racket. Everyone braced themselves for an angry German verbal thrashing, but instead he walked right past the drunk Scotsman and the ominously still Scout. Medic's rubber boots clapped on the wooden floor and they came to a rest when he was right in front of the bedraggled pair. His back was perfectly straight and his neck stiff like always, but he was still shorter than both Spy and Sniper.

"You two. Come viz me." Medic said with a sniff.

"Ooooh-hoo-hoo, somebody's in…trouble…" Scout wheezed from the corner. He still had enough life left in him to mock the situation, it seemed.

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.

Spy and Sniper followed the doctor through the halls like students following a principle back to the office to receive punishment. Medic unlocked the rusty door to the infirmary and ushered them inside.

"Haff a seat und please remove your shirts," Medic instructed as he bustled about, searching through papers and rattling surgical tools around. Spy opened his mouth to question the doctor but he knew it would only result in a lecture so he settled for grumbled as he loosened his tie. Sniper needed no explanation; he pulled his shirt over his head with a slight struggle and tossed it to the side, hoisting himself up onto the operating table. Spy had a bit more fabric to go through, however. It took him twice as long to unbutton his suit jacket, vest, and shirt, but he finally did and joined Sniper on the table.

They were very similar in build. Spy's waist tapered into narrow hips femininely, and he lacked the strength in his legs that Sniper possessed. Sniper's waist continued straight down, with his toned muscles visible as he slouched forward. They both had strength in their shoulders, with Sniper being slightly broader than Spy.

Medic came over whistling a strange tune and he got behind the two men and pressed an icy stethoscope to Sniper's back. He yelped and twisted, trying to curl away from the cold metal. A snarl from the doctor was all the warning he needed before he settled back down; Spy stifling his laughter.

"Gut…gut. Breath it and out for me, slowly," Sniper did as he was told and Medic scrawled something on a clipboard. He took Sniper's blood pressure, checked his eyes, mouth, and reflexes, then did the same with Spy. "Just as I thought," Medic clucked his tongue in disapproval gave both of the men a tight-lipped smile. "I'll be right back," he disappeared from the infirmary, lab coat swishing behind him.

Not a single word passed between the men, just the sound of Spy's labored breath and Sniper jerking his head up every so often because he was nodding off. Medic returned with two items in each hand.

A steaming cup of coffee and an unlit cigarette.

"I know vhat you two are doing. So wrapped up in zhis ongoing feud you're damaging yourselves viz withdrawal. 'Cold Turkey' is not ze vay to do zhings. If you vanted to quit you could haff just come to me and I'd be more zhan happy to draw up a monthly planner for you two, designed to wean your bloodstream off of ze-HEY!" Medic yelled angrily as both men moved at once and grabbed the items. Spy shoved the cigarette in between his teeth and patted his suit wildly for his lighter. Sniper gulped at the coffee, not caring that the scalding liquid was burning his throat. "NEIN! DO NOT SMOKE IN MY INFIRMARY!" Medic roared and grabbed them by the arm, thrusting them out of the medical bay with a string of colorful German curses.

"We are to…never speak of zis again…bushman," Spy said between puffs. He breathed an elegant tendril of smoke in the air and Sniper saw the nicotine immediately calming him. Sniper just nodded in bliss, sipping at his coffee quietly.

"Oi would've have won, though," Sniper said after a period of silence.

"Oh please, you're ze one who grabbed at Medic first!" Spy countered, reeling around to face Sniper.

"Nuh-uh!" Sniper said childishly, his grip tightening on the coffee mug. "You grabbed fer the cigarette first!"

Their bickering continued down the hall and into the kitchen.

It was ended only by Spy kicking Sniper in the shins and running off.

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**Hey...you made it to the end. Have a cookie X3. Seriously though, after you eat your cookie you need to go and follow my friend ThisNameIsStupid. She's an amazing writer and her multi-chapter story is something you're gonna want to pay attention to. Trust me. I love you guys~**


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